“An’ is it quiet? Why, a tomb in Aygypt is a lively place to it. The schooner’s getting rotting for want o’ work, and the men do nothing but dhrink and shlape, and the captain’s shut up all alone whin he isn’t down in the forest saying his prayers.”
“Is it the calm that comes before the storm, Dinny?” said Humphrey.
“Sure an’ I don’t know, sor; but I’ll kape watch if I can, and give ye word if there’s annything wrong; but me poor head’s in a mix, and since I’ve been out of prishn I seem to see nothing but Black Mazzard shwarming all over the place and takkin’ me darling away. Did ye intersade wid the captain, sor?”
“Dinny, I have not seen him again,” said Humphrey, frowning.
“Not seen him, sor! Why, he has been here half a dozen toimes.”
“Been here? No.”
“Sure and I saw him wid me own ois, sor. Twice he came to the windy there and four toimes along by the big passage. Sure I thought ye’d been colloguing.”
“I was not aware of it,” said Humphrey, calmly; but his words did not express the feelings that were raging within his breast, and as soon as he was alone he tried to analyse them.
He must flee. He could do nothing else, and growing momentarily more excited, he tried to force himself to act and think.
The old temple. He would flee there for the present, he said. It would remove him from Mary’s pursuit, for she would never dream of his seeking refuge there, and from that place he might perhaps be able to open up communication with Dinny.